Such was Alma’s idea of the origin of the Gypsies.
“But there,” he continued, “you must read my Uncle Westarus’s big book all about our people. There was a doctor and a lawyer, wery kind gentlemen, real bawrê raiaw (swells), who used to talk to my uncle for hours on end, and they wrote down every word he said, and then he wrote them a sight of letters, wery long ones, and they are all of ’em in print. So if you reads that book, you’ll larn all as is’ known about us.”
Alma’s Uncle Westarus was certainly a remarkable Gypsy, possessing quite a library, which he carried about with him on his travels. It is on record that at the age of fifty-five his library included several volumes of fiction, history, poetry, and science, a large Bible, a Church of England Prayer Book, Burns’s Justice, as well as English, Greek, and Latin dictionaries.
For the information of those who may not already know it, the volume designated by Alma “my uncle’s book” is a most valuable vade mecum for Gypsy students entitled The Dialect of the English Gypsies, by Dr. Bath Smart and Mr. H. T. Crofton.
There was a strong dash of Gypsy pride in Alma’s remark that the Boswells were the only real Gypsies left. “These others all about us are kek tatsho” (not genuine), he said, with a wave of the hand; “they’re only half-breeds.”
“But,” I queried, “are not the Herons and Lees good Gypsies?” Then, veering from his first statement, he admitted that the families I had named might be allowed a place among the old roots.
Then followed a discussion about grades of Gypsy blood. These were classified by Alma—
1. The Black Romanitshels, “the real thing.”
2. The Didakais, or half-breeds, who pronounce the Romany words dik akai (look here) as did akai.
3. Hedge-crawlers, or mumpers. “There’s a lot of ’em up London way,” said Alma. “We’d scorn to go near the likes of them—a tshikli (dirty) lot, not Gypsies at all.”